Idea
The kid names the change in their own words. No code, no syntax, no wizard chain.
Levels, characters, boss fights, rules, sound — written into real files the kid can read. They direct an AI partner. They keep, revise, or undo every change. Friends play it from any browser.
Game-making is the same four moves on every project. The kid stays the director; the AI does the typing.
The kid names the change in their own words. No code, no syntax, no wizard chain.
Three concrete moves. The kid picks one. That choice teaches taste.

The change is live in the running game. The kid plays it. Doesn’t guess — plays.
The kid is the editor of every change. Authorship lives with the human.
Pick a genre profile and the studio scaffolds the right mechanics: jump physics, hit boxes, win conditions, music cues. Theo started on the platformer profile; his next game can be a different one with the same studio.
Side-scrolling worlds with jumping, hazards, enemies, and boss fights. The genre Theo built four games in — the one with the most worked examples and wizards.
If your kid loves Mario, Celeste, Hollow Knight, Cuphead, or anything with run-and-jump — this is where to start.
Top-down or side-view arenas with aiming, projectiles, waves, and patterns. Bullet-hell or aim-and-fire.
If your kid loves Splatoon, Doom Eternal, Geometry Wars.Grid logic, sokoban-style pushing, switch combinations, mirror-and-light mechanics, deduction.
If your kid loves Baba Is You, Stephen’s Sausage Roll, Portal-style thinking.Connected rooms, NPCs to talk to, items to collect, branching paths, save points.
If your kid loves Zelda, Undertale, Hollow Knight side quests.Tracks, lap times, AI opponents, drift physics, course design. Top-down or pseudo-3D.
If your kid loves Mario Kart, Trackmania, Forza Horizon.Every wizard is a single named recipe. The kid runs add-enemy-archetype; the AI proposes the file changes; the kid keeps or reviews. The Game track ships about a dozen wizards — here are six that come up first.
Snaps in a new level with a starting room, hazards, and an exit. The kid sketches the shape; Inkie names the pieces and wires the transitions.
Spawns an enemy with health, attack patterns, and a clear tell. The kid names the archetype; Inkie handles the hit-box plumbing.
A signature ability that fires on a button. Dash, slam, shield, projectile. The kid picks the verb; Inkie wires the input and the cooldown.
A pickup that changes the rules briefly. Health, speed, double-jump, slow-mo. The kid names the effect; the studio scaffolds the spawn rule and the timer.
An NPC speaking line that triggers on proximity or interaction. The kid writes the line; Inkie picks the right scene hook and timing.
Re-skin the game in a different look. Manga ink, retro pixel, neon, watercolor. The kid says "make it feel cold," Inkie proposes three palettes, the kid keeps one.
Plus add-animation, add-collision, add-save-system, add-tutorial, add-accessibility, debug-game, import-sprite, and add-manga-character — the rest of the Game-track recipe shelf. None of them are screens the kid has to learn; they show up in the chat when the kid’s prompt suggests them.
Underneath the chat and the canvas, the studio runs two background loops — one watching the game’s engineering health, one watching how it plays. Both surface as read-only chips in the drawer. Kids notice them. Adults can audit them.
The drawer shows a small status row: structure ok, performance watch: large sprite, assets clean, style consistent, ai-scope on track. No code to read. No errors to fix manually. Just a quiet feedback loop the kid can show their parent.
Every time the kid runs their game, the studio tracks what they touched between runs. The Test tab shows "what changed since last playtest" so iteration becomes the move — not "did I break it?" Theo runs four or five playtests per session on Achilles.
Only the most recent AI change can be undone. Intentionally simple. Not Git-like — no branches, no merges, no commit history to teach. The kid clicks Undo last; the project rolls back to before the last AI proposal. Cleaner mental model for an 8-year-old.
The kid’s drawer reorganizes the project into four kid-readable tabs. Make is where they direct the AI. Test is the playtest loop. Review is the change-summary plus Keep / Review / Undo. Ship is the parent-approval checklist before publishing.
Four games. Four real URLs. Built with the same Game track your kid will open this weekend.

Dodge arrow waves. Charge the line. Outlast the gauntlet.
Used: add-character, add-enemy, tune-difficulty, sound-fx. The "scary arrows" decision was Theo’s first taste of revising taste.

Fly between sea and sun. One melts you. The other drowns you.
Used: add-hazard, set-win-condition, tune-jump. The melting-wings rule went through three revisions before he kept it.

Three-phase boss fight. Read the tells. Find the beat.
Used: add-boss-phase, tune-difficulty. Theo’s first multi-phase boss — the project where he learned to split "harder" into three asks.

Chamber crawl. The Gorgon turns you to stone — unless you look through the mirror.
Used: level-design, add-character, set-win-condition. The mirror mechanic came from Spy Kids. Inkie’s second proposal was the keeper.
Game track is $99 by itself. Or get all four creative tracks for $149 and let your kid pick the next adventure when this one’s done.
Theo built a switch that turns every game into hand-drawn manga. Type the codeword on the hub and watch the whole studio shift styles. It’s an Easter egg — and it’s also a 9-year-old building a feature most adults wouldn’t think to imagine.

Open the studio. Spawn a character. Add a hazard. Ten minutes in, your kid will be picking between three AI proposals like they’ve been doing it forever.